A gust of wind flew by an open terrain filled with rocks almost everywhere you stood, as suddenly as the gust of wind passed by a yellow-orange blur streamed through the area before coming to a halt right before the beggining of a mountain. A man stood where the blur had been only seconds ago, he had yelow-orange hair that stood up in almost every direction imaginable. He had on a white cloak with red flames taioring the bottom of it, rested in a nice black sheath. As he stood there he looked around the area, a letter in his hand, it read for him to come here for a spar. "Great hope i'm not late again"He says to himself as he looks around.